One Potion Too Far
by wendymarlowe
Summary: Hermione hires Snape to help her create some new potions for her and Ron's business. They don't get along. (Written from a prompt - going to be updating irregularly but frequently. And updating this summary when I come up with something wittier.)
1. Chapter 1

Hermione Granger stepped gracefully from the fireplace and dusted a smudge of ash off her sleeve. Her gaze traveled over the room, taking in the shabby furniture and faded wallpaper with no particular disgust, but Severus felt a pang of shame anyway. He knew his home was a far cry from Hogwarts, but he wasn't really in the position to do more than basic magical maintenance on the worst of the problems. And he rarely used the parlor, anyway.

"You wanted to see me, Miss Granger?" he snapped with a bit more malice than he intended.

She ignored his rudeness, though, merely extending her hand politely for a thoroughly muggle handshake. "You look well, Professor."

He inwardly bristled at her tone, but refused to let it show. Despite his irritation, he _did_ rather need this meeting. Assuming she actually meant something by it, and it wasn't just a social call . . .

"You mentioned a business question?"

She smiled without malice. "Yes. It's just - nice to see you, is all. But I did have a proposal for you, if you're interested - shall we talk here, or is there somewhere else?"

Severus eyed the faded armchairs, but . . . "Come, I'll show you my workroom."

She followed quietly down the short hallway. Severus's house was rather small - all he needed for just one person, really, but small all the same. His one concession to the need for more space was in his laboratory, which was rather larger than the footprint of the house would make it appear. He opened the door and held it for her as she stepped through.

"This is . . . very charming, actually. I expected something darker."

Severus scowled. "Nothing about potions require them to be brewed in a dungeon, Miss Granger. I happen to like having natural light available when possible." He indicated the two chairs flanking the rather scarred wooden workbench in the center of the room, and they both sat.

"I saw your article in _Potions Weekly_ last month - how is the custom potion market these days?" she asked.

_None of her damn business_, he thought. A single glance at his house and his laboratory should have been enough to tell her all she needed to know - the wizarding world may have been recovering after Voldemort's death, but curiously few witches and wizards were keen on special-ordering custom potions from a former Death-Eater. Even one who was technically a war hero.

But he wasn't going to say that, of course. He settled for a bland, "Acceptable. I've been keeping busy."

Hermione didn't contradict the obvious lie, just smiled politely. "That's good. I'm here to ask a favor, honestly - Ron and I are in over our heads."

_Now there's a surprise_. Of course Severus had seen the advertisements for the Granger-Weasley business enterprise - felt like you couldn't turn your head without stumbling across another tacky poster or banner or magazine ad with Ron Weasley's inane grin and frighteningly inane logo. _The Potion Pot - all you'll need, guaranteed!_ Severus had hated the name at once, and only grew to hate it more as time progressed.

But it was interesting to hear Miss Granger admit she needed help. "Potion-making get the better of you after all?" he asked. "Start messing up your Pepper-Up Potion recipe?"

She waved his question away with a graceful swish of her hand. "Nothing like that. I enjoy the work, actually. Ron and I have reached a comfortable split - I make all the potions, and he handles the business end of things. It's worked just fine so far. But we've taken on a new contract and it's going to be more than I can handle on my own." She shot him a lopsided smile. "I was hoping you might be able to furnish me with a list of former students who might be interested in some short-term work - someone who had some actual talent for potions would be preferable, of course."

"And what, you assume I carry such a list around with me?" Severus sneered. "I'm afraid I can't accommodate you, Miss Granger. Perhaps Longbottom is free."

"Can't, or won't?"

"It hardly matters, as I will not be providing you with such a list in either case."

Hermione sighed. "In that case, I suppose I will have to fall back to Plan B - hiring you. I know you're busy with your own mail-order business, of course, but you're the only one I know who would do a passable job."

Severus frowned. "I doubt you need a potion master of my caliber to brew the swill you undoubtedly sell by the gallon, Miss Granger. Surely you could place a notice? Next to one of those garish advertisements you've splattered all over most of the potions magazines, perhaps?"

Her smile widened at that, clearly unperturbed by his deliberate needling. "No, it's not that. We're going to be the sole supplier for St. Mungo's, you see. Ron just finalized the contract this week."

"Congratulations." Severus was impressed in spite of himself - their business must be even larger than he realized, if they were able to produce that quantity. St. Mungo's went through an incredible variety and volume of potions on a daily basis.

"Thank you," she said without any hint of sarcasm. "However, Ron also promised them one brand-new potion per month - something nobody has made before, and preferably something useful for the types of cases the staff at St. Mungo's often see." Her smile faded and she huffed softly. "He didn't consult me before agreeing, though, or I would have told him it was too much. I can step up the amount of time I spend in the lab and meet the volume demand easily enough, but I can't guarantee having time to research something - especially a regular output of somethings."

"And you believe I could?"

Her eyes narrowed as she swept a critical look over his form, then over his laboratory. "I'm not blind, Severus. You're wasted here. Even with your mail-order business, you're making what, a thousand galleons a year? I'd wager you sell no more than a potion or two a week, and that can hardly take up all your time."

Her assessment of his income was dead-on, which irked him all on its own. "Perhaps I should splash my face around more, like your Mr. Weasley."

"Do you honestly think that would help?" Hermione leaned forward to brace her elbows on the table and fixed her gaze squarely on his face. "You're a former Death-Eater, Professor. I'd wager most witches and wizards wouldn't be comfortable with you making them their potions even if they knew you were available."

She was more right than Severus liked to admit. Still . . . "I'll have you know I'm providing all the potions for the rebuilding crew at Hogwarts, Miss Granger, thank you very much." He didn't know why felt obligated to defend himself, but something in him bristled at a former student (Granger, at that!) knowing how badly his business was failing.

That brought an unexpected smile. "I know. We turned that contract down, actually - I decided that making Pepper-Up Potions and strength potions by the gallon would be more tedious than I wanted to take on, and the Hogwarts crews were unlikely to need anything much more than that. You must be getting bored with it by now, Professor."

The damn witch was right, of course. Severus kept silent and gave her his best glare.

"Look, Professor, I'm not going to browbeat you into it." She stood and tossed a muggle-style business card onto the table between them. "Here's my card. Come or not, it's up to you, but that card is spelled to become a portkey at nine o'clock sharp tomorrow morning. We can work out the details at the company lab."


	2. Chapter 2

Ron squeezed Hermione's elbow reassuringly. "I'm sure he'll come, 'Mione. I have faith in you."

Hermione snorted. "You have faith in your sources, who all say he's nearly broke."

"That too."

It really would be nice if he would. She had perhaps stretched the truth a bit the previous day - there was a stack of applications an inch thick on her desk, young witches and wizards who all hoped to find a job with The Potion Pot. Most weren't as talented at brewing as they thought they were, of course, but doubtless there were a few who could be trusted with the mundane recipes so Hermione could free herself up for the more spectacular creations. The problem was, she just wasn't good enough.

Oh, she was one of the best in her class at Hogwarts (with the possible exception of Draco Malfoy, surprisingly), but that was just one year at one school. And she had no particular affinity for potions over anything else. She and Ron stumbled on potions almost by accident, really, trying to find something to do after the war, and it happened to work out for them. Better than she could have ever hoped, if she didn't mind the monotony.

But Hermione had been brewing potions long enough to realize that the _truly_ spectacular work - the groundbreaking new creations and the finicky detail work - those took passion as well as precision. Something she tried to simulate, but knew she was just fooling herself. She needed someone like Professor Snape.

Who, as it turned out, was punctual. The clock over Ron's desk chimed nine, and then Snape was standing there in the center of the room, clutching Hermione's business card and looking only slightly out of sorts from using the portkey. He took a long look around the office, eyes jumping from object to object as if cataloging them for future reference, then he fixed his attention on her and Ron. And waited.

"Good morning," Ron managed to announce without stuttering. Maybe the last two years of public speaking had paid off. "Thanks for coming - we really appreciate it."

Snape inclined his head. "I haven't agreed to anything yet, but I admit to being curious."

_Curious is okay. Curious is good_. Hermione cleared her throat, aware of how odd it felt to be the one discomfited by Professor Snape - usually that was Ron's role. "Shall I show you around first? Then Ron and I can answer any questions you have."

He shrugged, a one-shouldered elegant motion which would have felt rude from anyone except him. For Snape it was downright eloquent.

Hermione met Ron's eyes briefly, reading his thanks at not being dragged along on the tour, then she motioned to the door and preceded her former professor through. "Shall we?"

He followed her, saying little, but Hermione could tell he was taking everything in. She felt a bit defensive as she guided him around their offices (a grandiose term for the two cramped almost-closets she and Ron had claimed for themselves) and the storefront. Snape held his tongue at the clutter on her desk and the vibrant orange decor scheme in Ron's, but he couldn't restrain himself once they got to the front part of the store.

"Seriously, Miss Granger? This is how you organize your wares?"

Hermione forced a smile. "Our customers seem to like it, Professor."

"You seem to set a lot of stock in what you believe your customers might like. Obviously your customers are all dunderheads - there is no earthly reason to put the Bundimun Pomade and the Furgus Fungal Budge next to each other, other than perhaps the color. Nor would any rational witch or wizard search for Strengthening Solution and strength potion on the same shelf - despite the names, they work on two completely different principles for two completely different purposes." He waved imperiously at the display behind the counter. "And isn't it a bit irresponsible to sell Amortentia here? Its one saving grace is being complicated enough that morons can't brew it, thus sparing us all from ill use - you've circumvented that."

Hermione held the smile and counted to three before replying. "It's behind the counter for a reason, along with Polyjuice Potion and Scintillation Solution and several of the other potions which could be abused if in the wrong hands. Lilia - our shop attendant, you'll meet her later today, she should get here soon - knows very well which potions can be sold to underage wizards and which need special dispensation from the Ministry. As for the organization - not every witch and wizard sorts their ingredients the same way, and we have found what works best for ease of browsing rather than frequency of actual use. Something I wouldn't expect you to have experience with, as you've obviously never had the need to present a public-facing display for anything other than students."

She mentally replayed her words and realized she had perhaps sounded a bit harsh, considering she was still hoping to persuade him to work with her. She tried to think of a better way to phrase her point, failed, and decided to gloss over it instead. "Shall we continue on to the lab?"

The look he gave her said very clearly that he understood she was changing the subject, but he grunted an affirmative reply and followed her back to the hallway and up the stairs. Hermione actually found herself eager to see his reaction when she threw open the door.

"Voila! The lab!"

He snorted at her theatricality, but he did look genuinely impressed. This floor was the entire reason Hermione and Ron had purchased this particular building - the lab was as far from the gloomy atmosphere of the Hogwarts dungeons as it was possible to be. The windows ringing the single room let in loads of not-at-all-magical sunlight, and Hermione had spent months getting the layout of the workbenches and shelves just right.

She stepped further into the lab and shut the door behind them. No one except Hermione (and very rarely, Ron) ever came up to her sanctuary. It felt less odd than she expected to be showing Professor Snape around, actually - he may have been caustic most of the time, but he was probably the only wizard in Britain whom she would have felt comfortable sharing an academic workspace like this with. _Another reason to hope he accepts the offer._

"Thoughts?"

He turned in a slow circle, taking in the arrangement of the room. "Your business must be doing well, indeed. I see you appreciate the importance of quality tools and materials."

Hermione shrugged. "The Potion Pot was really Ron's idea, honestly, but we've made a good go of it."

He gave an amused snort. "More than a good go, I would imagine. I would not have imagined Mr. Weasley to choose potions as his vocation."

She couldn't hold back her huff of laughter - he had intended to insult Ron, clearly, but he was so far off . . . "The potions were incidental. Neither of us particularly wanted to go back to school for another year just to sit for our N.E. , and the Ministry included a generous pile of galleons along with the Order of Merlin they assigned each of us. George suggested potions - it's something he and Fred never really did, at their shop - and we just ran with it."

"And you capitalized on your 'Golden Trio' status."

"A bit. Minus Harry, of course - he's much happier playing professional Quidditch anyway. But Ron and I split up the work, and it really turned out well. I do the brewing and he does the media and schmoozing and whatnot. He's really very good at it."

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow. Hermione was pleased to discover it was much less effective now that she wasn't his student. Still a bit intimidating, but she had no reason to be intimidated now . . .

"No need to make that face - it's true," she said. "Ron's got a lot going for him, despite how you treated him in your classroom - he's outgoing and friendly and _likeable_, unlike some, and he has a good instinct for working with people. Me, I'm happier in the lab."

"You defend him rather hotly for someone who is just a business partner. There's more there, then?"

_Did Snape really just ask if she and Ron were shagging?_ Hermione took a moment to pick the right words. "One, it's really none of your business, or anyone else's, what my relationship with Ron is. But two, yes, we are dating. And three, no, there's no wedding on the immediate horizon, no matter how much Ron's family might wish there to be." She shot him a strained smile. "And that's the last time I'm going to answer any questions along that line, I will warn you."

"Noted." He took another long look around the room. "So - your offer. May I work at the lab in my home, or do you expect me to share this room with you and whatever other dunderheads you employ?"

Hermione decided that Professor Snape must truly be incapable of _not_ insulting people every other breath. "Given the importance of the research and the secrecy surrounding our venture, I will have to insist you work here. With full access to whatever materials you may need, of course. And no one ever comes up here other than me. With the exception of you, if you want the job."

His scowl deepened. "If I take this position - and that's _if_ - I must insist on absolute leeway on my research. I will be in charge and you will be assisting me, not the other way around, is that clear?"

_Ah_. She had been expecting something like that, actually, so his demand didn't catch her entirely by surprise. And it made sense - he was the more experienced potions master, while she was just a reasonably bright potions student who never even took her N.E.W.T.s. Still . . .

"Yes and no," she said with as much of a poker face as she could muster. "Yes, whenever you are researching and creating new potions, you will of course have autonomy and I will assist you as much as I am able, given my other duties. But I will also expect you to assist _me_ with basic brewing when the need arises - sometimes I just need an extra pair of hands, and I'm not interested in hearing complaints about the work being demeaning. I seem to recall you giving us some rather long-winded speeches at Hogwarts about potion-making being a noble art and taking pride in even the simplest creations - I will expect that from you as well."

He searched her face for a long moment, then bowed his head. "That would be acceptable."

Hermione let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Excellent - let's go find Ron and you two can sign the contracts."


	3. Chapter 3

Severus apparated to his new lab at precisely nine o'clock the next morning. Hermione was waiting for him.

"I had hoped to turn you loose and let you get started today," she said without preamble, "but there's been a run on cough potions and I'll need your help to replenish our stock. Must be something going around." She waved vaguely toward the workbench behind him. "Shrake spine's on the table - we'll need about a quart, crushed, if you don't mind. I'm already elbow-deep in silverweed sap or else I'd do it myself."

_Autonomy my arse - she planned this_. "I seem to recall you promised to help _me_," he pointed out.

"Only when we're not swamped. Which, right now, we are."

Severus glared at her. The look didn't seem to be as effective as he was used to. "Is this to be a regular occurrence?"

She shrugged and turned away, but not before he caught a hint of a smile on her face. "You promised to help when we're in a crunch. We're overworked and we'll likely be in a crunch most of the time. Expect to be working for me as much as I'm working for you, time-wise."

"That's _not_ how you presented this opportunity," Severus growled.

"Obviously." Hermione shot a very definite smirk over her shoulder at him. "I knew you wouldn't take the bait if I did. But we do need you, and we are behind, so I'd very much appreciate it if you would tackle those shrake spines for me. When I do them, I keep stirring too quickly and they go all sour."

"At least you learned _something_ from my classes. I was beginning to wonder."

"That bit was from your old textbook - you know, the one Harry used our sixth year? He finally let me and Ron in on how he was suddenly doing so well in Potions. You ought to publish your annotations someday, Professor - they were really very helpful. You do have a gift for explaining things, when you can be bothered to do so."

Severus opened his mouth to retort, then closed it again. _Was that a compliment?_ He rather thought it might have been. How strange - it felt extremely odd for anyone to compliment him on anything these days.

The shrake spines took nearly three hours to crush and prepare, three hours of exhausting grinding and stirring which left Severus's shoulders and neck sore. The monotony gave him a chance to make a more thorough study of the lab and its other occupant, though. The storage system left something to be desired - it was a wonder Hermione could find anything at all - but the lab really was stocked with the very best materials money could buy. A full set of gleaming cauldrons in four different metals, several sizes of mortars and pestles, stirring rods in a neat block like kitchen knives, scales and flasks and tiny bottles with tiny cork stoppers . . . it was a pleasure to work with materials of this caliber, even if they weren't strictly _his_.

"Done with that?" Hermione asked.

Severus gave the cauldron one last stir. "As done as they'll get, I suspect - are you ready for them? The paste will set up like cement if you're not quick."

Hermione wordlessly waved him over to the large cauldron she had simmering at her workbench. Severus carefully measured out a quart of the foul-smelling mixture, making sure to spread it evenly throughout the already-bubbling cauldron, and immediately set to cleaning his own.

"You don't just _scourgio_?"

Severus sniffed dismissively, then immediately regretted it when the smell of shrake invaded his nostrils. "Come now, Miss Granger, don't you remember what happens to shrake vine paste when you use magical cleaning reagents?"

"It hardens, I know. But a second _scourgio_ gets it right out."

"It's not good for the cauldron."

"You're using copper - it's not like it will rust."

"It can tarnish."

"Not from _scourgio_. But I'm not ordering you not to - I was just curious, that's all." She smiled at him in a way that was probably supposed to make everything better.

"Just as well you weren't trying to _order_ me to do anything, Miss Granger. It won't work."

She turned away and let out a snort which sounded suspiciously like it was covering a laugh. "I know better, Professor."

"Good." He finished scrubbing the cauldron, vanished the brush, and hung the cauldron back with its partners on the wall-mounted rack. "Am I free to start on the work you actually hired me for now, or do you have some strength potion that needs brewing? Callum's Cure-All, perhaps?"

"No, you're fine. I can take this from here. I'm going to grab Ron and wander up to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch as soon as I'm done, though - you're welcome to come." She looked back over her shoulder and caught his eye. "You're welcome to apparate home for lunch instead if you prefer, of course, but I'm buying."

Severus inclined his head. "In that case, I suppose I will join you."


End file.
